


Penance

by MrsHamill



Series: Penitence [4]
Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Angst, Drama, M/M, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-05-10
Updated: 2001-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 00:23:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/791901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsHamill/pseuds/MrsHamill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim is STILL talking.  He doesn't like what he's hearing. This story is a sequel to Contrition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Penance

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Fox as ever. And thanks to all who have written about this -- so far -- nameless series.

* * *

Well, actually, no, I don't feel so good. I -- I haven't been sleeping very well. 

Yeah... yeah. The dreams are back... except... well. They're a little... different, now. 

But let me tell you something. I -- I did what you wanted. I told Sandburg, told him about number four on the list. It wasn't until a couple of days ago, we got busy, but I -- I knew he'd be going into the academy next week, so I had to tell him. I kind of ran out of time. 

Well... it went... better -- better than I thought it would anyway. I don't know why I was so worried, I mean, he always listens to me. He never does what I _say_ , of course, but that's a different thing. I tell him, stay in the truck, Sandburg, it's too dangerous for you, and does he listen to that? 

Oh, sorry. Yeah. Anyway, so I -- I did what you suggested. We were eating dinner Sunday night. And he asked me about, well, about how these meetings are going. Just kind of off-hand. And I thought, well, no time like the present. So I told him. I told him you wanted me to tell him something, something we had talked about. 

He just... he just sat there and listened to me. Those big blue eyes kept getting bigger -- and he just -- blinked -- at me. I -- I think I surprised him. Heh. First time for everything I guess. 

Yeah, he... he kind of got this -- this funny look on his face. It's hard to describe. But he just looked at me like that for a while, then he smiled a bit. Stood up real fast and started clearing the table. I thought at first, thought I'd blown it, you know? But after a minute, he came over to me and put his hand on my shoulder. Said if I weren't such a repressed, anal-retentive prick he'd hug me. And that he wants to be a cop. 

Yeah, he wants to be a cop. And I think he meant it too... his heart rate didn't spike or anything, and I can usually tell when someone's lying. I don't think he was. 

Well, let me tell you, it lifted about five hundred pounds off my shoulders. And then he lifted about another hundred when he didn't say anything else about it that night. Sandburg... you know, he just has to talk everything to death. He knows how crazy that makes me, but he does it anyway. 

But Sunday night... well, we did the dishes, we got a beer apiece, and we watched the Jags get slaughtered. And... and... 

And he seemed... normal. Back to normal. A bouncy, goofy, happy guy, just like I was used to. It was kind of... weird. 

Well, yeah, he'd been really quiet for the last few weeks. Then again, I didn't see much of him. He'd been with Simon and Darryl after Simon came home from the hospital, and of course, I was riding a desk until my leg got better, and he -- well, he wasn't allowed in Major Crimes, since his pass was officially revoked. 

He'd cleaned out his office at Rainier before I knew it, and I was going to help the little shit there. I don't know why he would want to face those assholes alone. But he did. 

Just another thing on the tote board against me, I guess. 

I know. I know. He's a grown-up, he can make his own decisions. I just sometimes feel so bad... 

Well, yeah, I want to protect him. Of course I do. He's... he's important to me. 

About... oh. That damn list. 

Whoo. Okay. 

No, no, I agree. Telling him the one was hard, but -- but -- yeah. I think I can tell him another one. 

Oh, no. _I_ get to choose. 

I think... I think I'd like to tell him about how I feel about Naomi. She's gone -- again -- and I think that really hurt his feelings. He doesn't show it much, but, oh, hell... I know he loves her with all his heart. I just don't know if -- if she loves him as much. 

I don't know. But I think... I think I owe it to him to tell him. To let him know that, well, that I know whose fault it was that the dissertation got leaked. It wasn't his fault. 

Hey, let's not get too ambitious here. One is okay, but I'm not sure I can tell him two. 

Yeah, I know. It's not like I don't _want_ to talk, you know? It's like... it's like there's a blockage there. It sits in my throat like a demented toad and just won't let the air through. Why can't I just talk? 

Write... you mean, like writing him a letter? Huh. No, I never really thought of that. But you're right, the thought of doing that doesn't scare me half as much as the thought of actually talking to him does. 

Yeah, what? 

O--oh. Yeah. The dream. 

Um... yeah. It's, um, kind of changed. A bit. 

No, Sandburg is still in it. But now... well, now, *I'm* the one being... tortured. 

Not always. Sometimes it's Colonel Oliver, again, sometimes it's Simon. Once it was H... a guy I work with... and he had this stupid German accent. But most of the time, yeah, it's Blair. 

And I can't hear what he's saying! That's the weirdest part. He's yelling something at me, and I think it's the same thing, over and over... but I can't hear him. It's like I have my hearing turned all the way down, or like I'm deaf. I think he's asking me something... but I can't... I can't tell... 

Fuck. Sorry. How should I know? I know it's all a product of my subconscious, right? My -- my inner brain trying to what, tell me something? 

Which I haven't had in more than a week. Yeah. 

...Trying to get to Blair. Right. And he was... he was... 

Um. Yeah. Being tortured. 

R--right. Um, asking him, trying to get him to talk about -- about me. And he wouldn't. And because he wouldn't, he -- he died. 

No. 

He didn't blame me. 

Oh. 

So... you're saying that... my subconscious knew -- knows -- that Blair doesn't blame me for all the shitty things I've done to him. That the dream was a way for my brain to tell me that. Right? 

No, I know that, Blair would never betray me, but I... oh. Um. 

But... but... 

Then what is my subconscious trying to tell me now? I mean, that's what I assume is happening. I'm being yelled at, usually by Sandburg, but I can't hear what he's saying. I can't hear... 

No. I -- I don't remember. I don't think so... Um... I don't think I tried to turn up my hearing at all. 

So... 

You think... 

It's me. *I'm* doing it. I -- I don't want to listen -- listen to whatever he's saying. Is that it? Is it?! 

You mean... I'd rather be tortured, killed, than listen to what Blair... my subconscious... is trying to tell me. That's nuts. I can't... 

Evidence be damned! I -- I won't... I can't... No... 

I _AM_ calm! 

Okay, I'm NOT calm. 

I don't _KNOW_ why, dammit! 

Oh, oh, I am so fucked. 

**WHAT?!**

I'm... Shit. I'm sorry. What? 

Yeah, I'd say that's a good assessment. Why would... I mean, why... _WHY_ would I be doing that? What could Sandburg possibly want to tell me... that I don't want to listen to, that I -- I'm -- I am... 

Yeah. Suppressing. I'm good at that, you know. 

Deep breathing. Yeah. You're beginning to sound like Blair. 

Okay, yeah. I'm okay. 

All right. 

A dream log? I think I've heard of that... 

Oh, yeah. Okay. And... and then what? 

Stopping it sounds good about now. Yeah, I know. 

Why does that sound familiar? Lucid dreaming... 

Uh.. Oh yeah! I remember Blair talking about that. Taking control of the dream. You think I could do that? 

Right. Okay. Dream log -- check.. Try to take control of the dream... yeah, yeah, like you said, not right away. Got it. Um... I don't suppose I could get out of talking to Sandburg again, maybe -- or at least get an extension? 

Damn. Didn't think it would work. 

But it was worth a shot. 

Okay. Next week then, doc. 

... 

Um... 

Thanks. 

end 


End file.
